


Lesbian Oneshots

by queerwinters



Category: American Horror Story, Carol (2015), Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Bananun, Drabbles, F/F, Hotgomery - Freeform, Lesbian, crackhead sally, foxxay - Freeform, lana banana, loubbie, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-02 02:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerwinters/pseuds/queerwinters
Summary: A collection of drabbles that may be cute, angsty, smutty, or just kind of here.





	1. Andante, Andante || Carol x Therese

“You came.” Carol’s voice cuts through the silence, waking Therese from her reverie. She only nodded, her eyes drifting across the older woman’s face. Carol smiled “I’m glad.”

Therese was silent again, afraid that if she spoke, she would lose what little composure she had left. Taking a deep breath, she thought carefully about her words...

“I love you.”

...and then disregarded everything she thought. She couldn’t be calculated when it came to Carol, no matter how many months she spent trying to learn. Carol Aird was just as intoxicating as the day they met.

Carol smiled weakly, but filled with relief. She met Therese’s eyes, holding the gaze for several seconds as Therese examined her reaction. She knew the look in Carol’s eyes. She had seen that look for the entirety of their time together. The look? Love. Pure, unadulterated love.

“Don’t you know that I love you?” Carol finally murmured, her lips barely moving as she spoke. She knew by the way the younger woman watched her that Therese needed to hear her say it.

Therese nodded slowly as she reached her hand under the table, resting it on Carol’s knee. “I missed you,” She responded slowly. “more than you can ever imagine. I’ve thought about your offer and I’be decided that I would like to come stay with you.” She hesitates, looking down at the table, then back at Carol, who was trying desperately to conceal her happiness. “I need you, Carol. Please don’t let me down.”

Carol took a deep breath.

“Never. In a million years.”


	2. Water and a Flame || Carol x Therese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol deals with the death of the woman she loved.  
> Fun fact: this was part of a lengthy “immortal carol” fanfic I thought I was going to do but..didn’t work out.

Seven days. She had been gone for seven days. Carol didn’t think she could handle the pain. Obviously, she knew she had to, but it seemed impossible. The love of her life had left her, again. It was a vicious cycle. She fell in love, they made each other’s worlds spin, and then one day there was a reason to leave. It made her feel sick to know that she hadn’t escaped it, even with Therese.

Downing the last of her whiskey, she looked out at the night sky. The stars seemed to wrap around her, like the promise of eternal love.  _ The promise that had been broken, time and time again.  _ She didn’t like to wallow. She really didn’t consider herself to be a self-pitying person. But she couldn’t help but stop and remember the women she had loved.

Miriam had been her first love, the first woman to teach her about heartbreak. The first woman to love her for everything she had and everything she didn’t. Miriam reached into the depths of Carol’s heart and made all of her dreams come alive. She taught her everything she could about love of life and love of self. 

After Miriam’s death, Carol went to Spain. She knew she was only fleeing her past, but she did it anyways. Isabelle made Carol’s time in Spain bearable. They couldn’t be together as often as they wanted, but she had still filled the void that Mir’s death had left. She was enough for a while, before Carol decided to give up on finding companionship. Then along came Therese. Tears welled in her eyes as she mused over the woman that would be her final lover. 

“Therese.” She repeated that name for hours, trying to understand why it had to be this way; why she had to love and lose over and over again, with no relief.

Why was everything meant to change as often as it did? She had convinced herself that the more years she lived, the more she would understand the troubles that she and the world were faced with. Therese’s death had proved to her that she was wrong.

And here she was, running again. New name, new city, new life. Anything to escape the heartbreak that would cripple her if it caught up to her. 

Deep breaths guided her through the steps she needed to take. She pushed herself to move to the bathroom, cutting choppy bangs. Satisfied with the carnage, she looked in the mirror. As badly as she wanted to, she couldn’t be Carol Aird forever. Then it came to her.

“Lou Miller. Welcome home.”


	3. Paradise || Venunble

Mary sits on the wooden bench, hands folded in her lap and head bent down.She can’t decide if she feels remorseful or not. She’s broken her vows, repeatedly, and enjoyed every moment of it. It’s wrong, it was from the start, but she knows she can never confess it, not to this priest, not in this institution. She could blame it on the devil. That would’ve worked fine if her sins hadn’t continued after she had been freed.

Tears fill her eyes and her throat grows tight. She begins to wonder how her superior felt about the things she had done. The things  _ they _ had done together. She finds herself biting down harshly on her lower lip, trying to quiet the thoughts creeping into her mind.  _ I wonder when I'll see her again _ . She shouldn’t think like this in the house of God, but it seems to creep up on her and refuse to leave.

She hears the priest settle beside her in the confession box, and takes a deep breathe to steady herself.

“Bless me father, for I have sinned.” She murmurs, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks before making the Sign of the Cross. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”  _ And all I’ve done since then is sin. Over and over again. _

There is a pause, and she holds her breath as if a single sound could expose the way she strayed from her path. Finally, he speaks.

“May God, the Father of all mercies, help you make a good Confession.” He responds. His voice is dull and flat, almost uninterested, but she doesn’t care. More than anything, she wants someone who won’t listen to what she’s saying. She wants to tell him everything, anything to make her feel free of this guilt. But she says nothing of what she and Ms. Venable do. 

_ Ms. Venable. _

The name repeats itself in her mind, nearly taunting her. A woman so powerful, so  _ intoxicating _ , that she so quickly owned should have belonged to God _. It can’t anymore. You can’t anymore. _

Snapping herself from her thoughts, Mary Eunice manages to come up with some meager sins to confess. Everything trivial and general, but enough to satisfy the (fairly uninterested) priest. She doesn’t pay attention to what he says next. She knows it by heart now. A dozen hail Mary’s and a few prayers, and she’ll return next week.

Still, she can’t get the older woman out of her mind.

——————————————————————————-

Wilhemina Venable had never been one for remorse. She didn’t care to recognize it, nor to feel it, but she could not get past the look that crossed her lover’s face every time she lay underneath her. Of course, desire always won out, and the disappointment was replaced with pleasure.

A smile plays on the lips of the red-haired woman as she remembers their last encounter.

_ “Ms _ . _ Venable.”  _ The girl groaned, grinding her hips against her partners hand. Venable only smiled, withdrawing her hand from between Mary’s legs. She wanted to hear her say her name that way forever. Dripping with lust, repeating her name like a mantra. Like she was a god to be worshipped.

The nun’s voice dropped a whimper. “ _ Please.” _

Her habit hit the floor and her knees were pushed apart. In an instant, Venable dropped to her knees, pressing her lips to Mary’s inner thighs. She felt hands tangle in her hand, pulling her closer to the younger woman’s center.

“What do you want?” She asked. Mary’s breath hitched at the tone in the older woman’s voice. 

Mary threw her head back, exposing her neck to her superior.  _ Her superior, _ she reminded herself, but was so high off of the woman’s energy that she couldn’t think about anything else, much less her own morals. They no longer mattered. 

“Jesus, Mina, just fuck me.” She pleaded.

_ And she did. _

—————————————————————————

Venable’s reminiscence was interrupted by the sound of her office door opening. She didn't need to look up from her papers, knowing it would be Mary. Anyone else would know better than to enter without knocking.  _ She never managed to learn that one. _ Regardless, her eyes flick up, meeting those of the nun. A certain  _ fire  _ possessed her. She stands to greet the woman, but finds herself biting her tongue as she notices her demeanor.

The nun silently approaches the red-haired woman, eyes raking over her body as she pushes her back into her chair. Venable can nearly hear Mary’s voice in her head.  _ Don’t speak, _ it urges. She complies.

Mary places one knee on either side of the older woman, straddling her lap. Venable leans forward, placing open-mouthed kisses on the younger woman’s jaw, trailing down her neck. A familiar heat settles between her legs as she moves her hands up Mary’s body, resting them beneath her breasts.

Mary opens her habit, pushing it to the ground to reveal a blood-red slip covered in lace, and for a moment, Venable wonders if this is the same woman she met when she was originally assigned to Briarcliff.  _ You don’t care _ , the voice, Mary’s voice, echoes in her mind. She chooses to agree with it.

Their closeness takes a moment to set in, but when it does, it takes Venable by surprise. She could count the freckles on the younger woman’s chest. In a moment of softness, she resolves to kiss each one. She slips her hand around the back of Mary’s thigh, running it over years of caning scars to reach her hip.

She finds herself resenting her predecessor for scarring the body of the beautiful girl in front of her. She can feel her heart threaten to ache at the visions of the canings that had never crossed her mind before. So vivid, so lucid, but they disappear when she feels the blonde push her hand between her thighs. 

She feels two fingers slide inside of her, moving so slowly that she wonders if she can take it. A chill runs up her back, accompanied by the warmth of Mary’s other hand as it settles around her neck. 

Her eyes close with the pressure. She was intoxicated by the younger woman’s touch, her scent, her presence. The orgasms were just an added bonus. A life spent void of emotion and human connection had been changed by the nun, and despite her efforts, she had begun to feel something for her. 

Mary said something, something she couldn’t quite understand, as she pushed Venable’s head to the side. Only when her teeth broke Venable’s skin did she understand the words.  _ You’re mine _ , she said. Venable did not question it.

“But are you mine?” She mumbles back. Her voice breaks and her hips jerk, and she almost regrets responding when Mary twists her fingers. She digs her nails into the woman’s shoulders as she comes undone, without making a sound.

She reaches for the girls hips, only for Mary to seize them with her own.

With a sigh, Venable peppers kisses down the blonde’s neck, savoring her closeness for as long as she could. She sighed, pressing her forehead against Mary’s shoulder with a sigh. She knows what’s coming, the only thing that could warrant the girl’s boldness.

“They’re going to crucify you when they find out what we’ve done.” She murmurs, her voice breaking slightly with the words. Her emotions get the best of her, an incident she had always preferred to avoid. Sensing the turmoil, Mary tilts Venable’s chin up, forcing her to meet her eyes. 

“Let them.” 

——————————————————————————


	4. The End of Love || Bananun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you(again) to Robin for helping me when I got stuck. You are truly my hero.

Mary clasped her hands in front of her body in an attempt to ease her trembling. Her mind wandered to what Lana would’ve done to quell her fears. But she was gone, and there was nothing Mary could do to bring her back. She wanted to laugh at herself or stand in awe of the view given to her by the roof of their apartment building, but she could not. She saw only the reason she was there; to mark the end of love.

She had to remind herself that although Lana was gone, she hadn’t left her by choice. Even in death, there would be no true end to their love. They had gone through hell; passed through the flames, the floods, storms, and still crawled away from the rubble intact. They were not invincible, but they had always been resilient. Before Lana, she had God, and with the both of them, anything was possible. But without Lana, Mary felt alone, and she could not be resilient by herself.

_ You have to embrace your pain if you are ever to move past it. _

Mary’s heart ached at the thought of the woman she loved and lost. She sat down slowly, dangling her legs from the great height. She wasn’t ready. The fear of the fall threatened to suffocate her, but the fear of living without Lana would do much worse, she knew.

_ Mary woke up to Lana’s voice humming next to her. Hands were running through her hair and legs tangled up with her own. She had never felt more content in her life. The woman next to her smelled of lavender and cigarettes, a smell that had become a comfort to the former nun. She turned over(flopped, as Lana would say) and smiled at the older woman. _

_ “I love you.” Lana had murmured, stroking Mary’s cheek with her thumb. Mary smiled in response, pressing her index finger to the older woman’s lips. Lana’s hand instinctively went to wrap around Mary’s, holding it to her heart. In that moment, Mary felt whole. For most of her life, she had depended on God. God was the hand that led her through the darkness, His arms were the ones that held her when she cried. He was her everything. After being freed from the possession, her connection with Him had almost disappeared entirely. Lana was the one that made her feel worthy of love again. When she was in Lana’s arms, the void that the possession had left in her chest didn’t ache as much, her legs didn’t feel as weak and her hands didn’t tremble with fear. _

The summer heat seemed to seep into her bones, something she had always hated about New York. She and Lana had moved there for Lana’s -notably very successful- writing career, but the city never grew on the former nun. Too many people, too many cars. Lana had always joked about shipping Mary off to live alone, in a cabin in the woods.  _ Not without you _ . Now, Mary stood in the city that Lana loved, without her. The very thing she had prayed would never happen.

_ “Father,” Mary murmured, keeping her voice low in an attempt to not wake the other woman. “I know only what I’ve been told about your feelings about things like this, about people like this.” People like them, she reminded herself. “But I have to have faith in love, in the way you protect love. I love her, Father, more than I ever thought I could love another person, let alone another woman.” Her voice cracked, tears filling her eyes as she thought about the prospect of losing Lana. “Please don’t take her away from me.” _

Mary had done everything she needed to do. She had no one to say goodbye to, no one to make amends with. Her fate had been sealed with a kiss. A kiss that belonged to God, as she had convinced herself. God knew of her dependency on Lana. She possessed strength in every quality Mary Eunice was weak in. They were truly perfect for each other, and after years of living with her, she couldn’t imagine living without her for any longer.

_ “Lana’s gone, Mary Eunice.” The words didn’t set in immediately. She stared blankly at Lois, unsure of the meaning of the words she had just heard. “She’s dead.” The woman whispered. With that, Mary crumbled. Broken syllables fell from her lips in her struggle to piece together words. Her chest tightened and tears poured from her eyes. In a split second, she had grown still. Her crying silenced, but didn’t cease as she worked to form a coherent phrase. _

_ “Leave. Please. I need to be alone.” Mary whispered. She didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to be with anyone but Lana. She closed her eyes, and did not open them until she heard the door click behind their friend. She wanted to scream, to mourn, but instead she became numb. She had never suffered a loss as great as losing Lana.  _

_ Maybe I’m delusional _ , she thought. But she could see Lana. The love of her life stood next to her, towering over New York City. She looked healthier than Mary anticipated, but then again, she was probably a figment of Mary’s imagination. An image created to comfort her in her time of need. Lana smiled at her, stepping closer.

“I missed you.” She mumbled, pressing her lips to the blonde woman’s cheek. “I’ve missed you so much.” Mary couldn’t respond, frozen in shock at the sight of the woman she  _ knew _ was dead.  _ But she’s so real. So present.  _ The smell of Lana surrounded her, even in death she smelled of lavender and cigarettes, and Mary found herself at peace.

“I’m ready, Lana.” Mary said, reaching for Lana’s hand. “It’s been hell, living without you. I don’t know how I’ve done it.” Lana smiled again, pulling Mary into a tight hug. 

“I’ve got you.” Lana whispered. All of Mary’s doubts fell away until she was left with only her love and her desire to be with Lana for whatever eternity she would be granted.

“I love you, Lana.” Mary gripped Lana’s hand with all of the strength she had. Inching closer to the edge of the roof, until only her heels remained on solid ground. Turning her head to look at Lana one last time, she let herself sway.

And that night, for the first time in her life, she could fly.


End file.
